


A mischief of mutants

by flightinflame



Category: X-Men (Alternate Timeline Movies)
Genre: Brotherhood of Mutants, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, First Meetings, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Kid Fic, Protective Erik, Young Charles and Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-04
Updated: 2019-12-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21670108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flightinflame/pseuds/flightinflame
Summary: Charles knows mother shouldn't be in the kitchen. But she's there - or rather something pretending to be her is there. And she's not alone.
Relationships: Erik Lehnsherr & Charles Xavier, Raven | Mystique & Charles Xavier
Comments: 10
Kudos: 61
Collections: Secret Mutant Madness 2019





	A mischief of mutants

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by [g33kyclassic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/g33kyclassic/pseuds/g33kyclassic) in the [secret_mutant_madness_2019](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/secret_mutant_madness_2019) collection. 



> **Prompt:**
> 
> What if instead of finding Raven in the kitchen as a child, Charles had found Erik instead?

Charles was reading under his blanket again, even though he knew he wasn't meant to. It was just that his step-brother got angry if he caught him reading, so it was the only time he really got. He sighed, turning the page and worrying about whether or not he would see his mother, when he felt a sudden spike of terror from the kitchen, louder than ever - it felt like when his stepfather turned on Cain, only far louder than that. He reached for the bat he'd taken to storing in his room in case he needed it, and made his way down towards the stairs, knowing from years of practice where to place his feet to stay silent.

He walked to the kitchen, towards the noise, and frowned when he saw his mother leaning into the fridge, hands greedily grasping at a block of cheese.  
"Mother? What are you...I thought you were a burglar." He explained, stepping in to the kitchen, and realising with a sudden sense of horror that there were other minds in the room, hiding under the table. He could count four. No, three. 

"I didn't mean to scare you darling," the thing that wasn't his mother at all was saying, and he was scared, his pulse racing. She carried on. "Go on, back to bed. I'll make you a hot chocolate." She was smiling, and it wasn't his mother's smile. He couldn't remember the last time his mother look at him as though she was happy he was there. He tensed, glaring at her, and approaching the table. There were four minds. He knew a moment ago he'd only counted three. He grabbed the table cloth, and yanked it away, a knife falling towards the floor, only to stop at the last second, levitating in midair for a moment and then going back onto the table.

Charles thought he was brave, for his age. But what he saw now terrified him, as he realised just how badly he was outnumbered.

There were four children under there. Three boys, and a girl - the last of which flickered into glass, or diamond, when he looked at her. Of the three left, one drew his attention straight away, his skin a brilliant red and covered in scars. That boy, maybe a year older than him had his tail wrapped around the arm of another boy, who was visibly shaking and had a black eye.

It was the third boy that stepped out, as the not-his-mother changed, going from looking like his mother to being small and covered in blue scales, with red hair and strange yellow eyes. The little girl backed away, rushing towards the boy that had stepped out. He pushed her behind him protectively.

Charles looked at them. The girls and one of the boys were obviously different. The other two boys could have passed as human. The girl that had been pretending to be his mother was the youngest, but none of them could be older than thirteen. These were children. Frightened children, who were somehow in his house.

He took a step forwards, holding out his hand, knowing he had to be brave. He approached the boy that was clearly the leader, the one brave enough to step forwards when he'd revealed them.

"I always thought I couldn't be the only one who was...different." He looked past the leader, at the other four children, and tried to smile. "And here you are. Charles Xavier."

"Charles?" The leader repeated, and his accent was thick, foreign. He pointed to himself. "Erik." The two girls: "Raven, Emma," and the other boys, "Janos. Azazel."

Charles nodded a greeting to each of them in turn. He couldn't help noticing the bruises that were visible, or how skinny they were. He looked at them in concern, not quite sure how he was meant to react, or what he could say to help them. But if they were hungry, that at least he could solve. He brushed against their minds, and he could sense their fear - not of his ability, but of his presence. Because they were afraid of being discovered, afraid of what would happen.

He pushed a little deeper, saw things that would haunt him, and he backed away.  
"You've come a long way."  
"Azazel." Erik said, stepping forwards. "Azazel got us out."

"That's good."

"Teleporter. Raven changes appearance. Emma is a telepath." He indicated the diamond girl, who turned human and sent a simple greeting into his mind before reverting to her ice-like shape. "Janos controls air."

"And you?" Charles asked. _I have telepathy_ he explained, looking towards Emma curiously. She didn't respond.

"Emma can't hear you when she's in that form, if you speak in her mind. And Janos can't hear you at all." Erik explained, calling over the knife that had nearly dropped off the table earlier, floating it around, and then returning it.  
"I can control metal." 

There was more to it than that, for all of them. No one just appeared in a kitchen in the middle of a foreign country, in the middle of the night, beaten and bloody and half-starved. But he couldn't ask right now. He was tired, he wanted to sleep, and he suddenly felt like he had a lot of adult responsibilities on his shoulders. He had to look after these children, because there was nobody else who would.

Charles nodded, looking at them curiously, already trying to work out how he could keep them safe. There were some rooms upstairs where no one ever went, he could put them there for a little while at least, until the worst of their injuries had healed up, and then he could work out what came next.

"You're hungry and alone. Take whatever you want. We've got lots of food. You don't have to steal. In fact, you never have to steal again."


End file.
